


Awakening

by melitta4ever



Category: Spartacus: Gods of the Arena
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:06:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4142262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melitta4ever/pseuds/melitta4ever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the order given to Gannicus and Melitta in episode 2, the dynamics of the relations between them were shuttered beyond recovery. Was it only these two who were affected from the deed?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oenomaus

**Author's Note:**

> Wow! This is my first ever fanfic, from FF.net, pusblished on May'11. Thanks for MelittaGannicus for the beta-work.
> 
> I decided to put all my stories under one roof here like a year ago. Now, I'm finally doing it.
> 
> I kept the original quotes in italic; they, and all the characters, belong to the creators of GotA.

The weak candle light was flickering on Oenomaus' body which was darker than the night itself. Oenomaus, awake in his bed, was lost in thoughts even darker. Watching his sleeping wife, his eyes were full with mixed feelings: love, passion, affection, anger and grief. But mostly love, always love… How cannot he love her? Even the question was sacrilege; there was no Oenomaus without loving Melitta. He cannot define his presence under the heavens without this love beating in his heart.

He caressed her naked shoulder softly, afraid that his rough hands might bother the sleeping beauty with their touch. Her soft skin looked paler than usual lying next to him; her face snuggled to his side. Watching her pleasing beauty he remembered the first time he had seen her: He had been a fierce warrior back then, the most skilled gladiator, the favored student of _Doctore_ , the champion of the House of Batiatus. There was no man in the _ludus_ who was not looking up to him or afraid of his sword in that matter. He was favored by the ladies back then. Although he has never been a man-whore like Gannicus, he had always been aware of the eyes lingering on him in the arena, on the streets or inside the _ludus_. But he had never cared for the attention: it was a mere earthly thing, nothing of an importance for a gladiator who became a god in the arena… till he laid eyes on her, Melitta... How young she was standing behind _Domina_ watching the fights in the arena. He had first thought that the shining Apollo was playing games on his eyes by revealing a nymph to tempt Oenomaus' mind away from the fight. Only after killing his opponent, he had realized that the temptation was an actual human being, a slave, the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Days have added up to months while he was waiting for the temptation to leave. Finally he had realized that Oenomaus, the champion, was powerless against this delicate flower. Even so, it took him longer than a year to gather enough courage to ask for Melitta's hand as a favor from Dominus.

How coy she was at their first night, so young, so pure, truly angelic. She was not looking at him, but only at her feet, quietly sitting on the bed. His heart was full with the fear of rejection. His hands were trembling when he touched her for the first time, lifting her chin up to finally meet her gaze. Such warm, glittering, shy gaze; full with admiration. It was such a relief seeing the awe in her eyes, he gladly accepted it as love.

How he wanted to be back to those blind days… back to believing that his love found the equal response… believing that the passion he felt was echoing in her chest. But a part of him had always known it had only been a mere hope that her young admiration for the champion would turn into romance. For the Gods, it turned... It turned not to a passionate love as he longed for, but to a respectful companionship. It did not matter for Oenomaus though; he felt blessed even with the companionship till that cursed night.

He wanted to remove that night from his memory, his heart. Ignorance was truly bliss as wise men said. He had felt an agonizing pain as if his heart was ruptured to pieces when he had heard someone else's name from his beloved wife. The pain was greater than what the sword of Theokoles brought. It was no louder than a tiny whisper, but his trained ears had picked up every single letter, and the underlying desire immersed within: Gannicus. She was sleeping on his side, but her soul was in Morpheous' realm searching for her heart's desire. It took only a whisper to wake good Oenomaus up from his long lasting dreams. With a warm whisper, his memories shone in front of him, free from the shadow of the wishful hopes masking them: how many times he caught her eyes on Gannicus instead of her husband, how she was uneasy when his brother was present, how deep her reactions to Gannicus' fights, how upset she was getting for every single blow he was hit by. Oenomaus had always chosen to accept these hints as sisterly care for a careless brother… as if there is any woman left in this earth having sisterly feelings for this fucking Celt!

But, was it her fault that she fell for Gannicus? The Celt was known to steal ladies' hearts like Paris of Troy. Truly blessed by Goddess Venus, seduction was a game for Gannicus, just another victory for the champion. Apparently the whores, the slaves, the lunatic crowd was not enough for him. He needed more to prove himself, more to fulfill the shameless desire of the cursed man. He had to reach the sacred flowers and stole the only treasure Oenomaus had in this world. He had stolen her heart and then treated her like a common whore! She was pleading his name in her dreams while Gannicus was fucking yet another whore in his cell, drunk senseless with his cheap wine!

The moment he heard Gannicus' name from her lips, he was to rage into Gannicus' cell to kill him in front of the whore he was screwing. But, when his brother's face came to his mind, the times they were fighting together, the times that he was beside him when Oenomaus was bedridden… Oenomaus' fury cooled down. Gannicus was a man-whore but also a true brother. Not in this world, not even in the underworld he wouldn't betray his brother like that. And Oenomaus knew that Gannicus loved Melitta. How many times he had protected her honor while Oenomaus had been hanging between this world and underworld after the great fight against the Shadow of Death. He wouldn't seduce Melitta just for the fun of it, Gannicus treasured her.

Oenomaus knew whose crime it was: He had only himself to blame and the knowledge was heavier than the sense of betrayal. Melitta had been in awe of the hero, the fierce warrior, the slayer, the strong Oenomaus. He remembered the times that he had been explaining the details of his victories in this very room. Melitta was to listen in complete attention even though she had seen everything in the arena. And the amazement in her eyes was better than the life itself for Oenomaus. She was to listen to the hope that one day they will be free with their honor, the promise he had given her. Now he was old with the years of blood heavy on his shoulder, wearing the mental of _Doctore,_ the elevated position given for the old heroes. She was still young, the very same desires of the past still boiling in her veins. She was looking at her husband but finding only a shadow, instead of a champion. Now all she was listening to was the blubbering of a hero relic.

He desperately wanted to see if it was love that he had seen in her eyes back in the time, or was it the simple joy of youth? Was she ever in love with him, or was he only a pleasurable companion to her? Did he kill the love inside her with his endless self-pity, or his love never had its roots in her heart? One good result of being old, he thought, you know that there are no answers to some questions.

He was watching her lips again, like every night after that cursed one, to see if there would be another confession. And with every night the hope was rising: maybe it was just a nightmare Oenomaus had… Maybe it was his own _Doctore_ 's soul that entered his wife's dreams for one night to punish Oenomaus deeds… Maybe he was simply jealous of the current champion of the house and slandering his own wife …

It was time for Melitta to leave for the villa; he had to wake her up. He placed his arms around her fragile figure… hugging her, taking her sweet smell inside him. He put a tiny kiss on her cheek to wake her up. A whisper rose from her sleeping lips as an answer to her husband's kiss, devouring all the hopes, destroying Oenomaus: Gannicus...


	2. Melitta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Words from a mouth that has only known her husband's cock.”   
> Gaia

Melitta woke up from the nightmare gasping for breath and found Oenomaus sleeping soundly beside her. She had let the sinful desires to accompany her dreams only to see the fury of her husband, should he ever discover the truth. She shut her eyes tight to wipe out the vision from her dreams, the fierce face of Oenomaus. The dream was surely a message from the gods to show what the future was holding for her.

The guilt was too deep in Melitta, she was choking on it. She could forgive herself for the act that she had been forced to do by Quintilius’ request. What choice had she had? She had been a slave for all her life and knew well the bitter meaning of the word. But she could not forgive herself for the pleasure she felt while performing the act. How was that even possible? Her husband had been the only man she enjoyed his touch… the only man that she had given herself to truly… the only man she had ever desired. Before being given to Oenomaus, she had her share of men only through brute pinches that brought merely pain or through filthy kisses that made her sick. The touch of a man for a slave girl was never pleasant, never intended to be. But Oenomaus was different than the others. His touch had brought forth the senses she had never known before. He was the one who had revealed the desire for a man in Melitta. She had always thought the feeling was unique for her husband’s touch and had never expected to feel the pleasure with another man, till that night… till Gannicus, the champion of the house, touched her.

How her husband loved Gannicus! At first she could not understand why an honorable man like Oenomaus could entertain a friend like him, whose hubris would surpass even Narcissus. He was quite a seducer too, unlike Oenomaus. Although Gannicus had his ways with women -all types of women (!)- he was different to Melitta. He was respectful to Oenomaus and carried the same respect toward his wife. And he had such a sweet tongue! Especially when moistened with wine. She started to enjoy his company in no time. But it was not till Oenomaus had his legendary fight with the Shadow of Death that they become actual friends.

Melitta could never forget how Gannicus had saved her from that filthy gladiator when she was up to visit the _medicus_ ’ chamber to see her bedridden husband. She was frozen with fear when the man had squeezed her between his disgusting body and the wall in a dark corner of the _ludus_. Before marrying Oenomaus, Melitta had been held virgin by her _Domina_ , no man would go any further than, perhaps, stealing a kiss. And when she became the wife of Oenomaus, no one dared to pester her either due to the respect for her husband or the fear of him. But in that moment, when she was pressed to the cold walls, the sudden realization came to her that there was neither her chastity nor her champion husband present to protect her against the lust of treacherous men. She could not even move, as if she was in a nightmare rising from the depths of Hades. She could feel the burning tongue of the man sliding against her neck while his teeth were buried in her flesh. The heavy smell of his breath was poisoning her but she could not even turn her face away to avoid the odor. His rough hands were under her dress, one was grabbing her buttocks while the other pushing the doors of her womanhood; mercilessly scratching her sensitive skin with his dirty nails.

Suddenly she saw Gannicus’ face behind the man, the crazy look in his eyes, the look he wore in the arena when he got truly mad. He pulled the gladiator off Melitta and instantly fixed his stormy fist to guy’s throat. The gladiator stumbled with the unexpected strike, gasping for air. Gannicus kept punching him, without letting the man even to breathe. It took him minutes to calm down and finally let the man fall. The gladiator’s face was distorted by the blows, bloody and swollen. Then, Gannicus looked at Melitta in the most tender way possible, reaching his hand out for her. She still remembered the relief she felt when Gannicus held her between his arms, stroking her hair while rocking her side to side to calm her down. She then realized that tears were pouring down her cheeks the entire time.

Gannicus sent her back to villa, promising he would tend Oenomaus that night so that she could have some rest. Only after she had a soothing bath she could comprehend the risk Gannicus had taken for her sake. A gladiator, beaten this bad would not go unnoticed. If the man was to tell the reason for him missing the fights, Gannicus, who did not yet possess the privileges of being a champion, would for sure be punished dearly. That night had changed how Melitta saw Gannicus. She finally could pass through his outmost layer of cocky philander and perceived what her husband valued in him. It was not only gratitude she felt, something more, deeper rose inside her. Their true friendship started that night.

Was that even true, only a friend? Till that shameless order came from Quintilius, this had been her belief. But when her eyes had met with Gannicus at that moment, she felt the desire rising hand in hand with panic and shame. She would never dare to betray her husband but when the command of her _Dominus_ reached her ears, she found that the resistance inside her was not as great as she had expected. When Gannicus held her in a not-so-friendly way, she felt the excitement running through her belly. She realized with horror that she was actually yearning to feel Gannicus’ touch.

When she was completely naked in front of the strangers, the kindness of his touch was the only thing she could hang on to. To her surprise, his touch was somewhat familiar; she was not repelled by it. She could not understand why her body was accepting him as a companion and not as an intruder. So it was actually possible to feel the pleasure of intimacy with someone other than Oenomaus! She knew such guilty pleasures were present for other women; she was not blind to other slaves’ acts. But she was in a wrong impression that she, the great prize of purity for the champion, was above all these acts. She actually believed that she was more honorable than the rest of the slaves! Such a delusion it was. She was not only enjoying another man’s touch but doing it so in spite of the audience…not even caring if the other man was a brother to her husband…

With that act, the realization came to her that she was a lie; Melitta, the honorable wife! Such a deceiver she was. The worst kind, deceiving even herself, believing her own lies! It was only fair that the gods turned away from her and were showing her the ending she most deserved.

Living in a lie was much harder when she knew the truth. Every time she was looking at her husband she was seeing the love for her was pouring from his eyes; only to be reminded of the inability to respond with an equal strength. Oh, how she wanted to be back in those days that she believed her love for Oenomaus was greater than anything…believed that Paris himself could not turn her gaze from her husband…believed that only with her husband’s hands her body could resonate its tune…and believed that honor was easy to carry for lifelong.

Her heart was torn with the desire she could hardly lull. So, this pain was all the great poets were talking about when they speak of love. She remembered one of the songs her mother used to sing quietly, while working around the house:

“I cannot finish my knit; it is no use mother dearie.  
As I am dying with desire, you may blame Aphrodite”[1]

And if this was love, what was she has been feeling for her husband all these years; loyalty, respect, affection? Whatever it was, was strong enough to tear her between her old self and the new Melitta… strong enough to stop her acting on her burning desires... strong enough to prevent facing her passion candidly, even when she was alone with the object of her desire… strong enough to make her to turn away from the very man she was dreaming of every single night.

Every night her dreams were leading to another shameful act with him, even if she was to sleep next to her husband. The memory of the rumors in the _ludus_ was not helping either. She had heard the slave girls bragging merrily that the champion’s phallus tasted like honeyed wine; that they were racing to put it in their mouth. And her old self had thought that it was low of Gannicus to reduce the girls to a position of a whore by misusing their mouth. The touch of his lips was bringing the unspeakable pleasures they were saying; especially when it moved around the lips of their womanhood. She had not believed them, “a gladiator bowing down to a woman, like a common slave?! Surely it cannot be.” she had thought. The girls did swear that they could not choose between his tongue and his manhood in their backdoor, claiming he actually mastered both the tools in the arts of pleasure. “How repelling” had been her thoughts, “beyond doubt, no self-respecting man should use his tongue like a dog in heat”. The girls were showing each other the marks of his lovemaking proudly; the purplish bruise from one kiss here, the red traces of a tight grasp there... And Melitta had thought the Celt had no kindness; tormenting the poor slaves who were sent to him.

But new Melitta understood clearly why the girls were so fond of him. Now, she could see the pleasures which were hidden from her eyes, covered with the lies she had been telling herself. Now, she was dreaming of the gossips she once had dismissed with disgust. She was yearning to taste the pleasures the girls loved to speak of. She was longing to feel his touch, once again, fully, without limits. Every single time she was near Gannicus, she was spending all her strength not to act on these crazy thoughts filling her head. Not to taste the lips that was calling her like the enchanting sirens. Not to concede her true feelings for him.

Melitta rose from the bed; she could not continue on these thoughts any longer. She got up to send prayers to Juno, the goddess of marriage. She begged her to remove this pain from her heart, to protect her from the desires Venus wrongly placed inside her… or at least to help her to keep her honor so that she can find the strength to resist this overwhelming temptation.

As if it was an answer for her prayers, her husband rose from the bed to ask the reason of her leaving his side. When he heard that his wife needed guidance from the gods to remove doubt and burden from her heart, he readily joined her prayers. When returned to his husband’s bed, Melitta felt relieved. She snuggled in Oenomaus’ strong arms, letting herself slowly into the soothing hands of sleep. She was more confident that with her husband on her side, she would overcome the burden placed upon her… at least till the next time she would see Gannicus.

 

[1] A love song, by Sappho


	3. Gannicus

Gannicus was sitting on his bed, his eyes lost in the candle light. The whore he was done with moments ago was putting on her dress, getting ready to leave. He had let her go earlier than usual. He could sense the disappointment in the woman; but did not care. He was bored… of everything, of the very breath he was taking. “Women…” he thought, “they used to bring much happiness and excitement.” Now, all he was looking for was being alone in this room and watching the eternal dance between the candle light and shadows on the dirty walls. There was nothing to look forward to for tomorrow, or the day after. He was not to fight in the arena, not to taste the victory, and most importantly not to see Melitta.

He had never thought that he would look forward to the games for a reason other than the fight itself. Now, he wanted to be back in the arena just to see her one more time. By the gods, it had gotten harder and harder to meet her! He knew that it was intentional; he knew that she did not want to see him, let alone talk to him. As much as he needed to lay eyes on her, she was avoiding him. And he could not blame her for doing so. He was trying to seduce his brother’s wife! What kind of woman would like such a person? A gladiator without fucking honor!

The pain was bruising his heart deeply. Every footstep brought him hope only to crush him more with its departure… she was not coming. After bringing such dishonor to her, hurting her, violating her; was he really expecting her to be kind to him? But Gannicus needed her approval. The champion needed her soft voice to tell him that everything was fine. He needed to hear the fact that it was not his fault, and most importantly, that she was not blaming him for the deed.

Oh, she was blaming him; Gannicus knew it as a fact. He was supposed to protect her when she needed him the most. Even the dogs of Capua could protect her against a useless slave, the act she had thanked him excessively in the past. But when she needed a real champion, Gannicus had let her down. How could he? How did he raise his cock while she was shedding tears like Aurora in the break of day! He needed to tell her… tell her that it was not to secure the fucking primus; but only because of her touch his heart had escalated. He needed to tell her that he had not been deaf to her pain; but it was beyond his power not to react her beauty. And he needed to tell her that he would rather have been dead than done such crime against his beloved if it was not for her approval. “ _See it done_ …” she had told him. And he did what he was told… as a slave must do.

The memory of the night was still fresh; he was living each moment in his mind every night, again and again. Her tears had been falling down one after another hastily; but finding sympathy nowhere. The thought of her tears was torturing Gannicus, but he was helpless against her image regardless. The memory of her body was still bringing him immense pleasure as much as he wanted to hate himself for it. How warm she was; her skin blushing in the sweetest pink as if suffering from fever… shaking like an autumn leaf under his touch. He could feel her heart beating hard against his flesh as if he was holding a frightened bird in his hands. And when she finally raised her eyes to look up to him while he was inside her warmth…the blessing he felt when she held him tight against herself, pushing him inside her even more! He had rejoiced beyond his own pleasure when he heard the sounds of ecstasy escaping from her sweet mouth… her face raised to touch his…her hands were seeking to grasp more of him…

But all was for a cursed show, should be forgotten “ _as do all things born of misfortune_ ”. She was a dutiful wife to his brother; she would not seek small entertainment over her beloved husband. That was all Gannicus, the man-whore of the _ludus,_ was; a momentary pleasure, nothing more! He was no Oenomaus whose love was filling Melitta’s heart and leaving no space for another man. Gannicus wished that he could hate Oenomaus’ guts; the shame he was feeling would, for sure, lessen than.

He remembered the first time he had realized Oenomaus’ passion for Melitta. The rain had been pouring hard that day, so hard that even _Doctore_ had surrendered and let the gladiators to rest; but not the recruits. Gannicus had been training under the heavy rain, lifting the fucking log for the thousandth time. Then he saw Melitta entering the _ludus_ , her head was high despite the falling water, her eyes were not lingering on any of the men but focused only on _Doctore_ for whatever reason she was sent. Gannicus watched her; hoping dearly that this time this beauty would meet his gaze. However, she passed by without recognizing his presence, as she had always done. He did not mind; after all she was the most valued body slave of the _Domina_ whereas he was just a new recruit, a worthless slave. Gannicus eagerly watched her walking by; he could swear that he saw a beam of light glittering around her beautiful face. His intentions were to draw every detail of her on his memory to keep that sparkle with him for the nights to come. But his eyes suddenly caught Oenomaus’ gaze, locked on Melitta. The champion’s eyes were singing like Orpheus’ lyre, but Oenomaus was utterly silent, completely lost in the moment. Gannicus did not require more than one look to recognize the depths of the feelings he came across. With that look he understood that Melitta was lost to him. He knew that a recruit’s chance in this matter would be even less than his chance in the arena when he was against the champion of the house. Even at that moment, when he realized his hopes were to perish before blossom, he could not hate Oenomaus.

The night Gannicus became a brother to Oenomaus; Melitta became the champion’s wife. While all _ludus_ was celebrating new brothers’ joining the ranks and drinking the wine Oenomaus treating them as a part of his wedding; all Gannicus could think was how that sweet slave girl, who had stolen his heart without acknowledging his existence, was about to share a bed with another man, with a brother… forever lost to him. Not even that night, when the champion had retired to his room with Melitta on his side, Gannicus could hate Oenomaus. Surely, he was not going to hate him today, not after screwing his wife to please a fucking Roman…

He sent a heavy curse under his breath to all Romans between Gallia and Mesopotamia, especially his _Dominus_. Now, that was a man Gannicus could truly hate! If it was not for his Dominus’ treacherous thirst for more power, Gannicus would live with his love buried deep inside, preventing even a glimpse of light to shine on it, away from even his own reach. He would have continued to enjoy his brother’s company and savor Melitta’s friendship. But after that night, after he had brought his feelings up from the depths of his heart, after forging them with the flames of lust, after seeing her pleasure as a result of his touch, after feeling her tremble under his body…there was no return. He did not have the strength to bury his passion back; Hercules himself would fail under such task.

Now, he was a stranger to his brother, the most honorable and closest friend; he could not even face the man. The shame he was feeling was only comparable to his love for Melitta who now was avoiding him by all means. Gannicus had lost everything dear to him. He was sure even if he could fight in the arena; he would find that the meaning of it was erased from his heart. Melitta took the taste of all the pleasures away with her when her eyes had sunk in sadness to avoid his gaze. Now the only thing he was longing for was a sign from her; kind words to sooth his aching heart, a soft touch to relive the pain he was suffering so deeply… Oh, who he was trying to kid? He wanted her to love him; it was all he has ever wanted. He wanted her to love him instead of his brother!

He remembered the question Melitta had asked “ _What happens brave Gannicus when presented with circumstance you cannot laugh or fight your way clear of?”_ How foolishly he had teased her in response. And yet here he was, as Melitta had prophesied, unable to clear his way out. Brave Gannicus, the fiercest warrior was incompetent to save himself from this mire he was buried deep. There was no way out but… Suddenly, as if a curtain was removed from his eyes, he finally diagnosed the alien feeling constantly stirring inside, giving him no rest. It was something he had not dealt with before: defeat... With a bitter smile he realized that he finally, after years of blood in the arena, learned the bitter taste of _missio,_ by the hands of the fairest of women.


	4. Oenomaus

Oenomaus stared at his beloved wife who was covered with her own blood, cold and dead. She looked so pale that her body was almost glowing in the darkness. He kept sitting there and staring at her aimlessly. He did not even try to clean her face; he had no power left in his body. She was gone… no longer would her voice fill his room; he would not feel her warmth or hear her heart beating next to his. She was gone…

No one told him what exactly happened; but there was no need. He knew it. He knew his wife would never drink alone; especially at an unsettled night like this one, when their _Dominus_ was in his death bed. She would not… not without the company of his brother, Gannicus.

Oenomaus was heartsick for how relieved he had felt when he realized Gannicus was leaving after the fight against Crixus. As a husband it had been his only wish to see Gannicus leave, be away from the eyes of his wife, away from her heart. However, he had tried to be right to his position as the _Doctore_ and prevent the sale of the best gladiator of the _ludus_ to that shit eater Tullius. And he had never expected that Gannicus, the champion with unmatched hubris, would let anyone win a fight. But his brother was leaving the _ludus,_ willingly. Even though he had tried to hide his intent under his skills, it was as obvious as the rising sun. He had stood still, lowered his guard and let Crixus win. The losing had given his intentions away. Gannicus was a lousy loser… he did not have much experience in the matter.

His brother was ready to pay the price Oenomaus had not dared. But it should have been Oenomaus who was leaving; he should have dissolved his marriage. He knew his wife’s heart did not belong to him any longer. He knew it was not the love keeping them together but solely his pride. But knowing did not mean anything to a husband; knowing only aggravated his jealousy. He did not want to acknowledge the truth that his wife was longing for someone else, for a brother. He did not want her to run to another man’s arms. She was his wife! The word had to carry a meaning after all! But if her heart belonged to another man, what was that meaning … to own her body? Tears filled his eyes while he was looking at her silent figure. “I have her body now” he thought; the pain was excruciating in his heart.

He held her cold hand softly, and took it to his lips to steal one more kiss. He found himself wondering if the hand he was holding was kissed by another pair of lips. He realized by disgust that while he was watching her corpse, jealousy was still residing in his heart; that he was speculating what she was doing while sipping the wine that caused her life. Was she just saying a goodbye to a forbidden love or was there more to it? How much more? Did she willingly present her treasures to pleasure Gannicus? Did she generously serve herself under his body? Did she enjoy the champion’s infamous touch? Or more importantly, did she enjoy it more than her husband’s? Was it the first time that she indulged in his company; or were they meeting behind his back every time her husband was away?... He knew there was no truth in these thoughts; he knew he was just doing so to pain himself. He knew her wife was honorable. Why else would Gannicus want to leave the _ludus?_

Remorse was filling Oenomaus’ heart, drowning him. Had he not been such a selfish prick, blinded by his jealousy and his meaningless pride, Melitta would not be dead now. She would not steal the wine gifted to _Dominus_ and hurry to be alone with her love for one last time. She would not be his wife, yes; but she would be alive... **She would be alive**!

Oenomaus was disgusted by himself. The greatness of his love was such a lie. How easy it was, to claim that he would cease his life for hers… he could not even abandon his fucking arrogance for her. “Forgive me Melitta” he begged to the corpse while caressing the cold hand. “Forgive me that I could not put you before my desires… even worse, before my pride.”

\---

When Gannicus entered the room, Oenomaus was praying quietly. Something he was not accustomed to do; but many things has changed in the past several days... since his wife took the journey to pass Styx… The Celt simply announced _Dominus’_ orders and Oenomaus started to get ready to join his brothers in the funeral for the _paterfamilias_. Just before leaving the room Gannicus stopped; after a moment of hesitation called his brother:

“ _Oenomaus_ …”

Hearing a pint of confession in his brother’s voice, Oenomaus panicked. “Do not!” he wished silently. “Do not speak of your heart brother; I do not have the strength to face it now.” He did not know if he could ever have that strength. But confessing his sins was not Gannicus’ intention; he only gave tongue to the torment clouding his heart:

“ _She was the rarest of women… a flower of beauty and compassion in a world full of shit._ _I would assume her place so that her laugh may once again fill solemn air._ ” Oenomaus knew his brother was speaking his true feelings. He knew Gannicus would willingly replace Melitta’s place in Hades. He knew the champion did love her, maybe even as much as Oenomaus did. He could respond only with equal honesty:

“ _She would not wish it._ ” He knew Melitta loved him too; she loved him more than she loved her husband… “ _She loved you_.” the most painful three word Oenomaus has spoken in his entire life. But he could not continue to his confession; it was just too much for a mortal…“ _as a brother_.”

He could not share the truth that both of them knew by heart. The burden would be even heavier when it was spoken out loud. No doubt it would be the end of their friendship. And Oenomaus could not lose another person.

\---

Oenomaus knew it was a nightmare he was living since he was absent of motion and speech. He could only watch how his brother dropping his guard in the new arena as he had done before against Crixus. Oenomaus could not even yell to sway the Celt from this madness. He could only watch while Caburus slicing his brother’s belly, spilling his blood to the hungry sands. He could not even shut his eyes to avoid seeing Gannicus, the fiercest Celt ever known to the arena, falling on his knees in front of the giant. He kept watching, without a breath, how Caburus slowly took his brother’s life; torturing him with weak blows to ignite the crowd and finally separating his head from the body.

Suddenly the weight of the nightmare lifted and Oenomaus regained his motility. The arena, the gladiators, Romans were all gone; only Gannicus’ body left on the sands stained with the blood of the champion. Oenomaus ran to his brother’s body but appalled by finding Melitta crouched over him. She was crying so intensely over the dismembered body that Oenomaus felt his heart was being ripped off from his chest. His wife looked up to him; her agony was evident in her eyes.

“Please” pleaded his wife, groveled before her husband, clinging to his feet with her bloody hands, “Please…”

He woke up with terror in his empty room, Melitta’s cry was echoing in his ears. His heart was beating so hard that he could hear its rhythm. After the panic left him, he started to comprehend his dream. Oenomaus was never a believer of signs from the gods or all that nonsense; it must have been due to the worry he was suffering due to the incoming games. Tomorrow would be his first fight as the _Doctore_ of the House of Batiatus, and it would be in the opening games of the new arena. Tomorrow, his brothers were going to fight, kill and die with honor as gladiators. But that bitter after taste of his dream was too real to dismiss… losing his friend, seeing him intentionally giving his life into the hands of Vettius’ shitty man. The doubt was lingering in his mind now; and doubt was the worst kind of weed, impossible to get rid of. He found himself wondering if Gannicus would actually do such a thing. After witnessing his fight with Crixus, Oenomaus could not be sure. He knew Melitta’s death was heavy on the Celt, as on himself. He knew Gannicus was blaming himself for her death as Oenomaus did. Would the champion turn from his life too; as he turned from victory? And if so, was there anything Oenomaus could do to stop him?

\---

Before the games started Oenomaus searched for his friend. He found him sitting in a corner and aimlessly staring at his swords wearing the same sad face from his nightmare. As the _Doctore_ it was his duty to prepare a gladiator for a glorious fight; as a friend, to keep him alive. He tried to fire the champion in his friend:

“ _Show all of Capua why you are considered such a prize! Fight! And honor the House of Batiatus!_ ”

“ _There are many things that I would die for…many things I deserve to die for…yet this house is no longer among them_.”

His answer brought the memory of Melitta’s crying face to Oenomaus. He could hear her pleading; see her tears mixing with his brother’s blood. He could not let Gannicus to kill himself, could not carry the burden of one more death on his shoulders.

“ _Then fight for her._ ”Gannicus looked at him with surprise. Oenomaus could clearly see the love for his wife in the hazel eyes but jealousy was no longer residing in his heart; it was all drowned in his remorse, buried together with his wife. When she was alive, he could not manage to keep her above his pride; but he was not going to repeat the same mistake now. “ _Every life you take, the blood you shed, she would see it from afterlife._ ”

“ _Then I shall fill her eyes!_ ” claimed the champion with flames bursting from his eyes. Oenomaus had no doubt that he would do so.

The End


End file.
